


Let This Be Love

by Tamasha



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Archaeology, Asthma, Cute, Falling In Love, Gay, Homelessness, Hopeful Ending, M/M, Modern Era, Museums, Painting, Pre-Slash, Protective Arthur, Relationship(s), Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-14
Updated: 2015-12-14
Packaged: 2018-05-06 14:33:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,601
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5420723
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tamasha/pseuds/Tamasha
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Merlin is technically homeless, but he doesn't find it too inconvenient and he certainly doesn't feel sorry for himself. He will find work soon or sales of his paintings will pick up and he will be back on his feet in no time. But when he talks to Arthur for the first time because of unusual circumstances, it turns out to be the change he was looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Let This Be Love

**Author's Note:**

> written by Natasha

He picked a flea off his skin, not bothering to consider how that really hammered down the feeling of homelessness for him. It was a temporary thing. With Hunith gone and Will still living in Ealdor, Merlin had found a place for himself on the streets of London. It had actually been long enough that he was used to the cold nights and the gnawing hunger. He didn't even remember how filthy he was until something happened to remind him, like finding a flea. Despite being used to this life now, he was not... settled. Soon enough, he would get a paying job, and then a contractor would show interest in his paintings, and before he knew it, his art would be displayed at MOMA in New York. He would barely remember his time on the streets as a struggling artist. It just took time.

With a huff, he uncurled his legs and stretched out before standing up. He might as well head to the soup kitchen now; they would be closing within the hour and he would have lost his chance at a meal for the day.

He was already close to the kitchen, so his walk was a short ten minutes and then he stepped inside the poorly heated, run-down warehouse-turned-soup-kitchen. It brought instant comfort. The volunteers here were usually bored people trying to "do their part" and then get out, while everyone else was just a hodgepodge of humanity. There were those who clearly were not stable mentally, and there were plenty of "veterans" who had grown too hard around the edges. Merlin tried to keep his head down around them. There were others like him, people just trying to get back on their feet, but they usually didn’t stick around long. Still, somehow everyone here was family. An odd sort of family, who did not talk to each other, to be sure, but there was a sense of comfort here. They all were in the same spot and they all needed the same thing: a meal and a safe place to eat it.

Merlin strolled in and walked to the counter. He recognized the server, a blond man who looked much too posh to even be volunteering in a place like this. He didn’t usually look you in the eye, and he rarely said anything more than necessary, but he did always offer you a smile and he was never unpleasant. Merlin liked him well enough.

When he had his plate of food, he moved to a seat at an empty table and began to eat slowly. He liked to take his time here; it gave him an excuse to watch the people around him. Homeless people were raw, with emotion, from exhaustion and fear, just... raw. There was rarely any pretense, and he liked that. He liked to paint that. It wasn’t that he would paint the people themselves (not that he was painting anything these days) but he tried to capture their energy.

His ideas lately often consisted of empty buildings, deserted parks, and harsh weather. There was little hope in his artist's eye, but he knew better than to let that seep into his own soul. That’s why he liked to let it out with his art. If only he had a medium anymore.

He stayed until the servers closed up, and then he lingered outside till the people were gone. Only then did he begin a meandering walk back to the park with the wooden bridge that he would sleep nearby tonight.

 

~

 

Arthur finished helping with the clean-up and then gathered his jacket. When he walked outside he saw one of the men he often served. He was walking slowly down the street in the direction that Arthur had parked his car. Arthur let out a slow breath and began to follow at a deliberately slow pace.

The man in front of him wasn’t just any one of the regulars. He was the one. Arthur called him Dopey, just in his head, after the Disney dwarf from Snow White. The man had the same huge ears, big grin, and big blue eyes. He had been there on Arthur’s first day of volunteering, and immediately charmed Arthur with a blinding grin and and a cheerful, "Thanks. Looks delicious today."

He always said thank you and smiled, but it wasn't as if they talked beyond that. Still, Arthur found him adorable, kind of like the real Dopey. And he would always sit in his corner and stay for an hour or so, watching his companions like he wanted to memorize them. Arthur just wanted to know what was in his head. He thought that Dopey probably had some brilliant thoughts just waiting to come out.

Of course, Arthur never said anything to him. He didn’t know what he would say, didn't want to come off as creepy, so he just avoided it altogether. Only now, he was following the man, so he stayed back and tried to mind his own business.

Dopey passed Arthur’s car, and then Arthur had his chance to get in and leave. Instead, he wasted time pretending to reorganize something in his trunk, not even questioning his own actions.

Just as Arthur had gathered his wits enough that he was moving to get into the driver's seat, he saw Dopey change direction abruptly and quicken his pace. Moments after, he heard what sounded like the playful banter of friends. Arthur sank into his seat, but did not shut the door. Two men had appeared from a side street and they seemed to be the ones shouting after Dopey, but then the dark-haired man froze as three more men approached from the opposite direction.

Someone stepped up to Dopey and said something. Arthur gritted his teeth, slammed the door to his car, and started to drive forward. He saw Dopey hand something over and then the man close to him shoved him backward. Arthur reached the group and rolled down his window. Everyone eyed him warily, even Dopey, but Arthur focused his gaze on those terrified blue eyes and said calmly, "Did you still want that ride I offered?"

Okay, so it wasn't the smoothest line, or even the best idea. But Dopey had clearly-unwanted guests and Arthur was not about to leave him to be harassed by these men. Or worse. And if Arthur’s protective instincts were kicking in, so much the better.

Dopey's eyes grew even wider for a moment, but then they darted to the man currently menacing him and back to Arthur’s car. He inched toward the passenger seat. Arthur immediately turned to the man about to follow Dopey and he glared. The man hesitated, taking in the car and Arthur as a whole, but he let Dopey open the door and get in. Arthur immediately drove away.

It actually took him a moment, all adrenaline-high, to realize that Dopey was breathing too fast and he was wheezing as he breathed. "Are you okay?" he asked urgently. "Did they do something to you?"

Dopey shook his head and waved a dismissive hand, but Arthur pulled over as soon as possible. "What is wrong? You don’t sound good..." Just then, Dopey started coughing. Arthur hesitated, wondering if he was sick, but he seemed to be struggling, so he pulled out his phone, ready to call 999.

"No," Dopey wheezed, eyes frantic. He put a hand on Arthur’s wrist which was holding the cellphone. "'M fine. Just... asthma," he managed eventually.

"Okay..." Arthur tried to think. "Shouldn't you have medicine for that? An inhaler?" Dopey glanced at him, but was too busy coughing to answer. Unfortunately, Arthur didn’t need an answer: he realized what Dopey had handed over to his aggressor originally. "What the hell?" he exclaimed, possibly too loud. "You gave them your inhaler!" Then, after a moment, "Why did they want your inhaler?"

Dopey glared at him in between coughs. "Right," Arthur said. "Questions later." He wasn’t sure, but he thought Dopey might be getting worse. Arthur clenched his jaw and turned off his car decisively. Then, he moved around to Dopey's side and opened the door, squatting down before him.

He felt very bad for still calling the man Dopey. "Okay, just... try to breathe..." He earned himself another glare and he started to feel panicked. "Are you sure you don't want an ambulance?" At that, Dopey stood up and tried to move away.

"Wait, wait!" Arthur said hastily. He took Dopey's hand. "I won't call anyone. Just... don't go off on your own." Dopey went into a coughing fit again but let Arthur guide him back down. He settled the other man on the ground between his own legs. Dopey curled against his chest, in pain, probably.

Arthur placed his hands on the man's shoulders. "All right, just relax. Breathe... you'll be okay." He started repeating himself, trying to stay calm and and breath deeply, willing Dopey to follow suit. He didn’t stop his wheezing, but he didn’t get worse, either. Arthur began to rub soothing circles into the other man's shoulders.

This lasted far longer than Arthur expected, but eventually his breathing got better. Even when he stopped wheezing though, he just sat there, trembling, so Arthur continued with his ministrations. Finally, Dopey sat up. "Hey. Erm, sorry about that. And thanks for helping. With both things."

He turned to look at Arthur but didn’t move away. So, his protectiveness was out of control at this point, but clearly, Dopey needed protection. Still, Arthur knew he was ignoring the concept of personal space, so he got to his feet.

"It's fine," he murmured. "I'm happy to... help. I'm Arthur, by the way." He held out a hand to help Dopey up and when the other man took it, Arthur did not let go.

"Merlin," Dopey said. Finally, Arthur had a name. Merlin. Merlin grinned and shook Arthur's hand firmly. Arthur went weak in the knees and smiled back. His hand might have tingled too, when Merlin let go.

"Are you sure you're okay?" Arthur asked.

Merlin shrugged. "I'm fine. It was just an asthma attack. Wouldn't have mattered, except that they took my inhaler..."

"Why did they want that, anyway? Don't people normally rob other people for money?"

Merlin chuckled, like getting robbed was part of his everyday life. Maybe it was. "They were getting to that, when you came around. And inhalers can be resold on the black market. I think that's why they targeted me; they knew I'd have one."

Arthur sucked in a gasp. "This has happened to you before?"

"A couple times," Merlin said with a twist of his lips. Arthur stared incredulously until Merlin shrugged again. "Anyway, I should get going..."

Arthur grabbed his shoulder as he started to turn around. "Wait. Maybe I should still take you to the hospital. I don't have to call an ambulance, if you don't want."

Merlin shook his head and stepped back. "No, I really can't afford that. Don’t worry, I should be fine tomorrow."

"Should be?" Arthur stared hard at this man, not sure why he cared so much, except... "Then come to mine. I'll make sure you stay alive overnight and then I can take you back tomorrow."

Merlin raised his brows. "I don't think..."

"No, please," Arthur said. "I know it sounds crazy, but I just want to make sure you are okay after..."

"After saving my life. Right." Merlin chuckled. "Well, if I had just given them my money, I don't think I would have had to worry about a beating." Arthur swallowed down a sudden lump in his throat. Merlin put up his hands in defeat. "Okay, fine! I will live in the luxury of your home tonight!"

Arthur frowned slightly. "I don't live in luxury," he said defensively. He really didn’t. And how would Merlin know how rich his father was?

Merlin outright laughed at that. "Anything is luxury compared to the dirt under a bridge."

Arthur widened his eyes in recognition and blushed. He had almost forgotten Merlin was homeless, even while skirting around the issue. He just seemed so... normal.

"Stop that," Merlin said, pointing at Arthur's face. Then he sat in the car. "Now, where do you live?"

 

~

 

Merlin was in the shower. It was the first thing he had asked for, after Arthur gave him a brief tour. Now Arthur was waiting in his room, wondering why he had asked a stranger into his house and what he was going to do with said stranger once he finished with his shower. He would offer some food, but clearly, Merlin had already eaten tonight. It was too early to go to sleep, especially for a Friday night. If he had been alone, Arthur would probably have ended up in his bed with his laptop, maybe watching Netflix.

Obviously, he couldn’t invite Merlin into his bed.

Too soon, the sound of the shower turned off, and then Arthur just waited a few more minutes for Merlin to cautiously peek his head around Arthur’s door frame. “Hi…” he drawled nervously.

Arthur turned up his lips in a smile. Merlin’s hair was wet and plastered to his head, so his abnormally large ears stuck out even more. He looked adorable, and nothing like Dopey, really. Well, maybe a really sexy Dopey. Arthur blinked, and tried to shake that train of thought from his head, but then Merlin stepped inside.

He was wearing a pair of sweats and a t-shirt from Arthur. The sweatpants barely clung to his hips, but otherwise seemed to fit. The t-shirt was too big, but it didn’t exactly dwarf him… pardon the pun. The outfit itself was not anything special, but they were Arthur’s clothes, and he felt a sort of primal response to seeing Merlin wearing them.

“Hello,” Arthur responded, his voice dry. “How was the shower?”

“Warm,” Merlin told him promptly. “It was actually really nice to have a shower, thanks for that. I think I can manage not to stink up your house now.” He offered a toothy grin at that, letting Arthur know he was just kidding.

“No worries,” Arthur soothed anyway. Just in case. “I really don’t mind, and I have the spare room, anyway, so I am glad you could stay.” Merlin quirked a brow and Arthur blushed a little. He cleared his throat then, and stood up confidently. “So. I suppose we could choose a movie to watch, unless you want to go straight to bed?”

“No, I’m not tired yet.” Nodding, Arthur moved forward, so Merlin stepped back and then he followed Arthur out into the living room. “So, we could watch a movie. Buuut…” Merlin drew out his word dramatically, and when Arthur looked at him, he saw the man’s very hopeful expression. “It has been ages since I have played a game.”

Merlin bit his lip. Arthur glanced at his TV regretfully. “I don’t have a console, actually.”

In response, Merlin barked a laugh. “No, no! I meant a board game. You can’t tell me you don’t own any board games.”

Arthur blinked and then took a deep breath. “I might have a chess set somewhere…” He had just started to move, considering where he should look first, when he noticed Merlin’s face. He looked rather comically frantic. “No chess?” asked Arthur.

Merlin shook his head rapidly. “I’m rubbish at chess.” Arthur was at a loss, but then Merlin got a thoughtful look. “You must have paper and pencils, yeah?”

“Paper and pens okay?” Arthur wondered hesitantly.

Merlin rolled his eyes. “Yeah, that’ll work. Do you want to play Pictionary?”

Suddenly, Arthur felt very out of his depth. He had no idea how to play Pictionary, and he wasn’t entirely sure he wanted to. “Don’t we need a board for that? And pieces?”

“Not important,” Merlin said with a shrug. “We’ll just play informally.” Arthur had not moved to get the supplies and Merlin finally seemed to catch onto that. “Unless you don’t want to play. Erm, we could always just watch a movie.” Merlin tried to hide his disappointment, but it was painfully obvious. Arthur realized that some part of him wanted to impress this guy, for all the he really wasn’t the board game type.

“No, Pictionary sounds great,” he said and went to find some paper.

 

~

 

Arthur, as he expected, was pretty awful at Pictionary. He didn’t even enjoy the game, really, but he definitely enjoyed the way Merlin’s eyes lit up when he put pen to paper. “You’re an artist,” he had accused as Merlin had drawn his first picture. Merlin wasn’t even shy about his talent. He told Arthur that he was a painter, specifically, though he was happy to engage in any medium. He just liked to create.

Arthur was fascinated by the quick, sure strokes of the other man’s hand. He asked Merlin far too many questions, but Merlin seemed happy to answer, often making Arthur laugh with his audacity. After too many rounds of the game, Arthur asked Merlin if he would do him a favor. “What is it?” Merlin had asked warily.

Arthur grinned and went to his closet. Last Christmas, when Morgana had been complaining that Arthur never did anything with his free time (it was under her pressure that he had started to volunteer at the soup kitchen, actually), she had bought him a set of acrylic paints and some differently-sized canvases. She had wanted him to broaden his horizons and try out a hobby. Painting had never interested him though, for he was a terrible artist, so the whole set had sat in his closet untouched. Now, he brought it all out and showed it to Merlin. “Will you paint me something?”

Merlin had latched onto the paints and caressed the canvases, gawping at it all for a while before remembering Arthur’s existence. Arthur didn’t even mind; he was glad to see his surprise make Merlin so excited. Once he agreed, Merlin started painting and became much less talkative. Arthur thought at first to leave him alone, but then Merlin had encouraged, “Tell me about yourself, Arthur. I can listen, at least.”

So Arthur had haltingly given Merlin the bare minimum, unsure of what he was meant to say. And finally, exasperated, Merlin had given his host more attention. The two ended up talking late into the night.

 

~

 

The first thing Arthur noticed upon waking was that he had fallen asleep on his couch. The second was the painting leaning against the couch by his feet. It was the largest canvas and Merlin had painted it lengthwise, to better fit the background of a train station platform. It included the tracks, squat brick pillars, and even a train schedule. Still, the most impressive part was all the people. The station was crowded, and Merlin had taken the time to paint each person with his own personality: expression, luggage, and clothing were all different. There was a man staring at the schedule with three little girls clustered behind him. There was a laughing young couple with enough bags for a permanent move. There was a balding, frustrated-looking man trying to weave through the crowd with his briefcase. Arthur’s favorite was an young teen standing alone and facing the rails. His suitcase was blue with red polka dots and he had a teddy sitting right on top.

After inspecting the painting for a while, Arthur arose with a smile. He looked around his front room, but didn’t see Merlin anywhere. He lost his smile as he wandered into the kitchen. Had Merlin left without a goodbye? Surely he wouldn’t have; they had gotten along so well last night. Arthur had been certain they could become friends, maybe even more. Well, one day. He had always liked his Dopey, and now that he actually knew the man as Merlin… there had been a connection. There had been.

The bathroom was empty. Arthur even looked around outside, but saw nothing. Not quite pouting, he trudged back inside and into his room to pick out some clothes. Strangely enough, that was where he found Merlin. The clicking of the door must have awoken him, because he was already stirring as Arthur walked in. “Merlin,” he said, surprised to see his guest in his bed, under the covers.

“G’morning,” Merlin mumbled. He squinted blearily at Arthur, who was hovering in the doorway still. “Hope you don’t mind I took the bed. I wouldn’t have minded the couch, only you were sleeping so peacefully there. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

“Right,” he answered dumbly. “No, I don’t mind.” Then he tried not to stare as Merlin stood and began a whole body stretch, wearing only a pair of boxers. “Well, I just came to get some clothes,” he admitted awkwardly.

“Oh!” Merlin snapped to attention finally. “Sorry. Go ahead, you can have your room back.” With that, he snatched up his borrowed clothes from the day before and hurried out of the room. Arthur noticed a blush on Merlin’s high cheekbones before he escaped into the hallway. With a self-satisfied smirk, Arthur shut his door gently and moved to his dresser.

The connection was real, then. Merlin was not gone.

 

~

 

Merlin heard the shower turn on in Arthur’s bathroom, so he settled in to wait a little while, which really just meant he got out Arthur’s paints again. He reached behind the train station he had done for Arthur and pulled out a smaller canvas that had hopefully remained hidden behind.

It was unfinished, and his model was gone, but the image of Arthur’s lax, sleeping face was imprinted firmly in Merlin’s head. He just hoped Arthur wouldn’t be too upset when he realized that Merlin had started another painting after he fell asleep. Arthur was bold, confident, arrogant. Handsome, definitely, but it was the sort of face you could admire from afar, but you could never capture for yourself. Then, Arthur had fallen asleep and Merlin had seen something different.

His face was still handsome, of course, but it stopped being so set apart. There was suddenly a vulnerability that Merlin had only glimpsed while talking to the man. Whatever happened now - even if they never met again - Merlin would at least have this one piece of Arthur. Realistically, though, Merlin was pretty sure they were friends now. He may have been charmed by Arthur more than he had ever expected, but he thought Arthur might actually be infatuated.

Arthur himself walked out of his room then, hair still wet, but wearing casual clothes that looked good on him. Merlin didn’t even glance up as Arthur asked, “What do you think of kids?” He wasn’t sure he had that jaw quite right yet.

Pursing his lips, he responded absentmindedly. “I’ve thought about adopting one day. It doesn’t seem right to try for it now, while I am homeless and unemployed.”

Arthur snorted, and Merlin allowed himself a small smile, sure that Arthur was smiling too. He examined the jawline of his painting, but eventually set down his brush. It would have to do for now. When he looked up, Arthur was still on the other side of the room. From his angle, he would still have no idea what Merlin was working on.

“It’s just,” Arthur began once he had Merlin’s attention again. “My sister runs the customer relations realm in the museum.” Arthur had explained last night that he worked at the Natural History Museum that his father technically owned. Arthur had his Ph.D. in paleopathology and his job consisted of experimentation and studying in the lab, so he didn’t have anything to do with visitors to the museum. Merlin thought this sounded awful, but Arthur argued that he loved his work and that it was important for the future. Maybe Merlin could concede that much, because Arthur studied ancient diseases, but that meant he understood their evolution and could more easily predict and prevent future diseases.

Suddenly, Merlin realized Arthur had paused, so he raised a brow. “And what does your sister’s job have to do with me and children?”

Arthur took a deep breath. “Well, she is starting up this after school program for older kids. She is setting up classes for twelve weeks each. Ideally, the activities would be educational, but she wants it to be things that are fun too, that kids would want to learn about.” He looked down at his hands. “I asked her, and… she still needs to hire a couple more people able to teach a class.”

Merlin didn’t say anything for a moment. He wanted a job, obviously, and not just any job. He wanted to do art. Of course, in a perfect world, he would just paint and people would buy his work, but he wasn’t famous yet. He had looked into teaching art classes at a primary school, but he had no degree, so it hadn’t panned out. This opportunity sounded amazing. On the other hand, he needed to find a job on his own merit. He didn’t love the idea of being anyone’s charity case, and he had already taken a lot from Arthur.

“Am I even qualified, Arthur?” he asked softly.

Arthur looked up, slightly surprised. “Sure,” he chirped. “This isn’t an accredited school we are talking about. As long as you can handle the kids… Really, the hard part will be convincing her that an art class would be worth offering. She won’t love the idea at first. Still, I’ve heard you talk, and I am certain you could pitch it well enough that she will approve it.” Arthur looked earnest now, his hands clutching the back of his couch. Merlin relaxed. The job wouldn’t be offered out of pity. He would still have to apply on his own, maybe even convince someone that he was worth it. Merlin liked the sound of it better. He offered Arthur a smile.

“That actually sounds brilliant. And your sister is the one who gave you this paint set, right?” he gestured at the mess around himself. “I have to tell her thank you, anyway.” Then he grinned widely. He could walk to the library today after Arthur dropped him off and use their computers to fill out an online application.

Arthur’s face lit up, like he was the one who had just heard of a great opportunity. “Really? I have to stop by work today for a couple hours anyway, and Morgana works Saturdays. Would you like to come with me and talk to her now?”

Merlin opened his mouth in protest, but then sighed and closed it again. He rolled his eyes and Arthur shrugged innocently. “Thanks, Arthur,” he said, glancing at his painting. He really caught something special there.

“Don’t even think about it.” Arthur waved a hand in dismissal and peered down at Merlin’s work space. “What are you working on now?”

Merlin lifted the canvas carefully without turning it around. “It’s for myself, really. I hadn’t meant…”

“Just show it to me!” Arthur demanded impatiently.

Merlin felt his cheeks heat up in embarrassment, but he slowly turned the painting around. It was going to be revealed sooner or later. Arthur’s face went blank for a tense second, but then he threw back his head and laughed. As Merlin watched him, he felt a fluttery disquiet in the pit of his stomach. Maybe he was just grateful about the shower, the bed, and the job opening. Maybe. But he had another idea, too. _Let this be love,_ Merlin thought.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Tamara wanted me to write a homeless Merlin and I wanted to write infatuated Arthur, so this was the result. I really liked Merlin in this one, so I hope you enjoy it as well! Thanks, as as always, comment to your heart's content!


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